Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 489(@200wpm)___ 391(@250wpm)___ 326(@300wpm)
“I take it that they didn’t end as friends.”
“Fucking understatement of the year. He won’t be happy. About what you said, though, you don’t have to worry about me fucking around on Irish. That’s not my style.”
He nods and shoves his hands in his pockets, mirroring me.
“I can see that you love her. Your house is outfitted for a dog as if Riley has lived there since he was a puppy.”
“She loves that dog,” I reply. “And so do I. He’s a good boy. He should be as comfortable as we are. And if you’re wondering what my intentions are with your sister, well, like I told you in LA, I’m going to marry her. I’m going to worship her for the rest of my life because there is no one else for me. She’s everything good in this world, and I don’t care if that sounds … whatever. I love her.”
“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder. “Don’t fuck it up.”
With a laugh, I move toward the side-by-side. “We’d better head back.”
On route to the house, I glance at the other man again.
“Before we’re with the others, is there any news on The Asshole?”
Connor blows out a breath. “There’s no evidence that he ever left New York. No flight booked, commercial or private, under his name.”
“How the fuck did he manage that?”
Connor shakes his head. “He’s so fecking dirty, who knows.”
“Does he have mafia ties?” I ask him, and his head jerks as he scowls at me. “I’m serious. Does he?”
“Not that I know of.”
“I don’t know anything about that world,” I continue, “but it seems to me that he has an awful lot of people in his pocket and magic tricks up his sleeve for a run-of-the-mill rich guy.”
Connor’s hands ball into fists.
“I’ll make some calls,” he says quietly, effectively ending that conversation. We’re at the house now, anyway.
When we walk inside, I see that everyone is already here. Dani and Skyla, along with Blake and Birdie, are in the kitchen, and everyone else is gathered close, at the far side of the island or the breakfast nook, chatting and laughing.
Gatherings just like this are what this house was built for. It’s way too big just for me, but for family gatherings, it’s perfect. And as my eyes find Skyla, as if they can’t stay away from her, a level of contentment envelops me. She is the reason this house has become an even better place to come home to each day. As Connor said, Riley seems to have lived here since he was a puppy. But she made these walls a home, almost effortlessly.
“Uncle Beck,” Birdie says, waving from the kitchen. “We’re making s’getti with meatballs.”
“Sounds good enough to eat.” I bury my face in Birdie’s neck and blow a raspberry, making her giggle. “How are you, peanut? Feeling okay?”
“Yep. We have gluten-free noodles for me,” she says with a smile. “And they don’t taste too bad.”
“Well, good. I’ll eat them with you if you want.”
“No, they’re for me.”
“Fine, keep them, then.” I turn to Skyla, who’s grinning at me, and I wrap my arms around her shoulders and kiss her, right here in front of everyone.
“Get a room,” Blake says as he walks by.
“Go away,” I reply without looking at my brother. “How are you, Irish?”
“Happy you’re here.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
SKYLA
“I’m happy to see you, too,” Beckett says before kissing me again. “Brooks, I need to talk to you.”
He squeezes me, then lets go and turns to his eldest brother, and I see Brooks’s eyebrow cocked in curiosity.
“Okay, talk,” Brooks says and pops an olive off the charcuterie board into his mouth.
“We should do it privately,” Beck says, and Brooks shakes his head.
“We don’t have secrets,” Brooks replies, not even caring that I’m here, along with Mik, Benji, and Connor. “Just tell me what you have to say.”
“Juliet called me.”
The room goes dead quiet. Bee, who just walked into the room from outside with some fresh eggs, stumbles to a stop.
“Juliet?” Bee asks.
Brooks immediately scowls.
I sidle up to my best mate. “Who’s Juliet?” I whisper.
“Brooks’s ex,” she whispers back.
“She said—”
“I don’t want to know,” Brooks replies, shaking his head, his face grim.
“Maybe it’s important,” Blake says, but even I can tell by the stubborn look on Brooks’s face that he won’t budge.
“It’s not life-threatening. She just—”
“No.” Brooks’s voice is hard and firm, and Beck holds his hands up in surrender.
“Okay. Forget I said anything. It smells good in here. What’s for dessert?”
“I made some pies,” Dani says, pointing at the pies she brought. “Peach and huckleberry, because I still had hucks in the freezer from last year, and they needed to get used. But the crusts are gluten-free, so Birdie can have some, too.”
“Yum,” Benji says, winking at Birdie, who bats her eyelashes at him.
This little girl is a flirt. And she has all of us wrapped around her wee finger.